


have you heard of a friend line (it got crossed two minutes ago)

by blackice



Series: Rooster Teeth/Funhaus - Rare pairs [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, It's seriously just a fluffy fic, Jerematt, M/M, More like Friends to Lovers to Yes Let's Officially Date, Profanity, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexual Content, Team Building Exercise featured briefly, axial6401, bottom!Matt, hivemind - Freeform, top!Jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:23:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3911167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackice/pseuds/blackice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, why Jeremy would totally top Matt.</p><p>-</p><p>He splutters and makes incomprehensible noises while she laughs. “Well,” he finally says, “Matt’s told me he’s straight. Very straight. Like an arrow.”</p><p>“Oh, you romantic,” she coos at him.</p><p>“He drunkenly told me he was heterosexual,” Jeremy emphasizes. “Drunken truth is very truth.” Kat hums to convey her sympathies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have you heard of a friend line (it got crossed two minutes ago)

**Author's Note:**

> Kat is Jeremy Dooley's real-life fiance, and they've been friends since highschool and yes I ship them very much too. However, here, these two men are beautifully single and ready to bed each other like hell. So far as I know, Matt apparently does have a significant other, so kudos to you too, significant other, because Matt is frankly too great to be left behind in the couple race.

I.

RTX 2014 goes off with a bang, and some Achievement Community members have gathered enough funds to actually be in Austin, Texas. Matt and Jeremy meet for the first time, and they hit it off well enough; they know one another by reputation – the Minecraft guy and the Imaginary Achievement guy – because that’s a given. Social requirement: know who’s who in the community. Of course, it’s a surprise to associate the voices to the actual body.

To Jeremy, he had to associate AxialMatt with this odd, lanky, long-armed fellow. To Matt, he has to blink several times and adjust his eye-level seven inches or so lower. And accommodate the unprecedented muscularity of the Bostonian.

 _He’s like a cannonball_ , thinks Matt, _liable to take out anything given enough speed and force_. Out loud, he asks, “You know the prank we’re playing?” His long fingers dance nervously on his crossed arms, and his eyes at an imaginary point of interest.

“Yeah,” responds Jeremy. He’s grinning and calm – it’s an enviable state at this point. “It’ll be great. Prank to stir up the audience. Can’t go wrong. Can’t _be_ wrong.”

And then they step through, approach the mike, and Matt’s long arm hooks around Jeremy’s neck for his hand to clasp one rounded shoulder. It murders Matt’s spine for him to hunch down to the mike, but – it’s the least he can do. The two of them are, he thinks, just two sweating assholes trying to fumble their way through a joke.

Then they’re hired, and it isn’t a joke, and suddenly Matt is very worried for his life.

It’s one thing to be a fan wishing to be hired and voluntarily ‘wasting’ ( _listen, this is not a hobby, mom, god_ ) time on community videos; it’s another entirely to be _hired_ by _Geoff_ while several hundred people are watching _jealously_.

Jeremy glances at Matt for a split second, and by chance Matt is looking down at him too.

Dark eyes reassure him silently, _We’ll be fine_.

 _I wish_.

II.

“There’s a guy from South Carolina moving here too,” the complex manager says cheerfully, and Jeremy doesn’t know if he should cry or choke on his bottle of water at the coincidence. “Not in _this_ building,” the man amends, seeing the blank look in Jeremy’s eyes. “But in the same area, you know? You know him?”

“Yes,” manages Jeremy. He phones Kat an hour later, taking the offered moment alone from the manager to panic. With several babbled lines of ‘oh my god’ and the explanation to his panic, he laments, “There have been romcoms starting this way.” She laughs at him, sweet as sugar and sharp like the going away party liquor they had drank.

It doesn’t sound the same over the static of the phone, and he wishes his best friend is beside him right now helping him unload his boxes and build his furniture instead of being responsible and lucrative back in Boston.

“Kat,” he whines.

“ _Jeremy_ ,” she mimics. Kat sighs. “ _I’ll visit every month, you baby._ ” He can almost hear the wicked curve of her lips. “ _Of course, if_ anything _happens_ , _I’ll want pictures as proof. Or videos, since that’s the kind of company you’re going into_.”

He splutters and makes incomprehensible noises while she laughs. “Well,” he finally says, “Matt’s told me he’s straight. Very straight. Like an arrow.”

“ _Oh, you romantic_ ,” she coos at him.

“He _drunkenly_ told me he was heterosexual,” Jeremy emphasizes. “Drunken truth is very truth.” Kat hums to convey her sympathies.

They mutually hang up.

III.

They’re very good friends, discovers Jeremy. Platonic soulmates has been redefined several times over in the Rooster Teeth office, and while they certainly don’t hit the bar of _almost actual romantic soulmates_ , he and Matt have a solid rapport of shared bad jokes, showtunes, and a strange tendency to linger near each other.

He does it because Matt is an effective magnet for everything heading at the two of them anyway – Jeremy’s seventy percent certain Matt actually uses Jeremy as a social shield.

Well, Jeremy’s been told that his mouth could’ve been split between two people with the amount of crappy jokes and one-liners he’s delivered his life, so it’s not hard to chivy along conversations or incite explosive rages to the surface and the mike when Matt lapses into his silences.

Then Matt gets terribly drunk and terribly cynical. Jeremy almost regrets taking the invitation to enter the man’s domain at first, because Arya is a cunning and vicious devil. Secondly, because Kat has left Austin and Team Building Exercise to finish their damn Halloween build, and she has suggested the Meremy thing isn’t too far off, Kdin, but don’t you think _Jerematt_ is better?

Her waggling eyebrows are swiftly pulled down as Jeremy kicks at her foot. In retrospect, kicking Kat had not been a good idea, because then his phone had been alight with several text messages of nothing but trash talk about how she would get revenge next Imaginary Achievement.

But anyway – Jeremy stares at Matt’s television, briefly forgets why he’s inside the apartment until he remembers: Matt is stupid-drunk. Beyond that, he has breached the territory of babbling-idiot-drunk.

Jeremy appreciates the blackmail material, or he will, at least, later.

“I hate Halloween,” grouses Matt, knees pulled up his chest and fingers mashing buttons to spam the redstone wiring. His hair’s tousled as fuck, and his most recent attempt at beard growth is starting to finally succeed and add some bristle over pouty cheeks. If there’s anything Jeremy’s everything regretted after the way Matt’s growing hair makes him look like a serial killer, it’s that the (probably, look he’s never - ) soft cheeks are behind hidden away.

God, he’s drunk.

Jeremy hmms in agreement and tries to fall asleep with his eyes open. His happy place is waiting for him, and it’s just within his reach when Matt makes a disgusted noise and saves the game with a huff. He’s startled into an edgy wariness. “Matt?”

“How’d Kat actually manage to be happy with building?” asks Matt despairingly. “No, really, how. Even when _I_ first started building I hated it.”

“She’s literally made of kittens and rainbows,” says Jeremy. “And sometimes knives.”

Matt snickers and coughs out a giggle. “To friends,” he says dryly, reaches for his glass of cheap Jack Daniels and downs in one go. Jeremy avoids looking up at the long line of neck and tries to drown himself in the whiskey as well, and it’s just as well he’s set his glass down when Matt makes his move.

Long thighs, clad in faded and stretched-out denim, spread wide over Jeremy’s lap, bony knees settle on the sides of his hips. Automatically, Jeremy’s hands reach out to cradle and steady Matt, who has slumped forward and seems like he’s trying his best to suffocate Jeremy with his chest.

Muffled, Jeremy only makes a token mutter: “Matt, move.”

Predictably, Matt refuses to budge, only leaning in more heavily and making some effort to roll his hips. Jeremy can hear the breathless whine rattle up the taller man’s chest, and through several layers of heavy denim and a determined reminder that drunk Matt is _sometimes_ asshole Matt, Jeremy recalls the last remnants of sobriety and tries to remind Matt he is drunk.

“Matt, you’re – “ Still muffled.

 _Oh_. Jeremy sucks in a breath at the more insistent push, the noncommittal noise Matt makes, and then inexperienced Matt Bragg tries to establish what is quite the most unyielding, unsatisfying rhythm a drunk person can manage. So he pushes back, causing Matt to lose the unsteady beat.

“What,” says Matt finally, rearing back.

“We’re drunk,” points out Jeremy reasonably, biting back a hum at the exploring hands. They skim over his shoulders, down his arms and back up, slide down the front of his shirt to skirt the cotton hem. “And you don’t seem like a guy to let loose _these_ kind of inhibitions while drunk, asshole.”

Matt harrumphs – more like ‘hmph’ to be honest, in that self-righteous tone that makes one feel like he’s judging. Disagreeably. Really, Matt is just a disagreeable guy, as in he disagrees to disagree and only agrees when he’s inclined to agree to disagree.

And sometimes, it’s because his loyalty overpowers common sense.

“I wanted to see if Kdin’s right in his predictions,” the man mutters. His long fingers pluck at the thin fabric of Jeremy’s shirt, and seriously, when did Jeremy get so irritated that neither of them have tripped into the promised haze of lust and drunk idiocy every frat storyteller passes down? To retaliate for the teasing fingers, Jeremy skims his thumbs under Matt’s own shirt and presses against the soft warm skin warningly.

“What predictions,” demands Jeremy. As Matt tries to tug Jeremy’s shirt up and off, Jeremy has to move his hands to grab the thin wrists and gently move them aside. A subtle concern rises, curls tight around his heart and dulls the want – the same thing happened not too long ago when Matt ordered himself no less than forty-eight breadsticks. He stifles the feeling. Whatever Matt does is his own goddamn choice and he really has no cause to interfere in them.

“That you’re the bottom in the Meremy thing,” laughs Matt. “S’why they have the _M_ in place of _J_. It’s a fanfiction thing, I think.” He has to maneuver himself and scoot back a little to bend down and scrape his teeth at Jeremy’s neck – subconsciously, Jeremy has inched Matt’s legs further apart. “Also, ‘cause you’re _short_ and I’m _tall_ – “

Jeremy makes a low growl in the bottom of his throat and surges forward, barely hindered by the drunk haze blurring the edges of his vision or Matt’s slight weight. At the back of his mind, Kat lectures him about drunk consent and drunk sex is not good sex, no matter how _virile_ one is, Jeremy. He manages to take the barest lesson from the imaginary reprimands.  He keeps a firm grasp on Matt as he stands – it kills his biceps to be strained this way, slight weight Matt is or not – spins, and seats the taller man down with a firm press to his shoulders.

He drops to his knees, puts his hands primly at Matt’s knees (god, he’s already spreading those mile long legs wide without any encouragement). “Matt,” he says gently.

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes,” mutters Matt, shoulders drooping and muscles lax. “If _you’re_ gonna give me the lecture about drunk sex is bad sex, I swear to god I’ll kick you in the dick.” His head lolls about, and Jeremy can see green eyes, half-lidded with arousal, peer down at Jeremy. “What, you want my permission? Vampire in my pants?” He breaks into giggles, and Jeremy guffaws for a brief moment, taken aback at the image. “Yeah, yeah, you can step in _my domain_ – “

Quickly undoing the button of the man’s jeans and roughly jerking them down halfway down his thighs is, to Jeremy’s delight, a solution in the problem of getting drunk Matt to shut up and enjoy the ride.

“Listen,” says Jeremy fondly. “If you think _I_ was gonna bottom for a _minute_ in the Meremy thing, clearly someone wasn’t looking at your muscle definition, buddy.” Matt’s leg starts bouncing in the interim that Jeremy takes to assess Matt’s status as about-to-be-fucked, so he presses down firmly with his hands. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough that Matt settles, making a small desperate whine.

He still has his glasses on, and that, Jeremy thinks hazily, is a good enough reason to wreck him right here. “You still with me?” he double-checks, because the point of doing this is to be an experience for Matt to _know_ Jeremy ain’t standing for himself being the theoretical bottom of this theoretical relationship. Also, nothing will stick if Matt’s lost in his mind, blurring any memory of the night from his brain.

“Goddamn,” sighs Matt. When Jeremy presses his mouth to the front of Matt’s underwear, his legs jump, his breath hitches, and something breaks in Matt. “ _Goddamn_ , Jeremy, please,” he groans, his long hands tentatively going to skim against a buzzed scalp.

IV.

Their one-night stand is, predictably, a kind of blur for the both of them. In the ass-crack of dawn, Jeremy slips back to his apartment complex, pulling the bill of his cap low and brandishing his key as a weapon to any obstacle. He’s not expecting any repercussions from the night, except, well, some part of him that was still inebriated told him to take a photo of Matt. And as he was a strict follower of the law – he doesn’t want to be kicked out of the south yet – he had woken up Matt for the picture.

Grumbly, sleepy, cuddly Matt with his endearingly noodle arms had just muttered a ‘fine’ to Jeremy’s low request for a picture and even flashed him a sleepy smirk and crooked thumbs up while tucked under covers.

The drunken asshole part of him sends the picture of a drowsy, tousled hair Matt to Kat, who only responds with ‘jfc’, ‘do you need an intervention’, and ‘he’s totes adorable, jerem but wtf are you texting me at four in the morning _asshole_ ’.

Jeremy makes it back to his apartment with time to spare for a brief nap, a briefer shower, and a two minute breakfast.

Matt struggles to pull himself from the brink of sleeping again when he realizes that Jeremy has vacated his apartment for the past several hours. Gingerly, he stumbles over to the bathroom to assess his body for any visible remarks of what he vaguely recalls as an enlightening night. To be fair, he finds very little in terms of finger-shaped bruises or teethmarks (well, there’s a tender area right on the crook of his shoulder, but that’s easily covered with the layers he wears) even though –

He flushes red at the patchy memories. So Jeremy’s a definite top for all of his mild attitude and short stature, even if they hadn’t had full-on sex. _Whiskey’s a downer_.

Still. Matt can make the conclusion based off the fading memory of purred orders, firm hands pressing down and guiding lanky limbs, and a dark voice murmuring praises, calling him ‘boy’ –

 _Oh my god_ , groans Matt, scrubbing at his face. _Not a kink. Not a kink. Last night means_ nothing. In fact, last night wouldn’t affect the office atmosphere at all.

They can still be the Hivemind and best friends in Austin, Texas (he’s not so needy or clingy to think Jeremy doesn’t have friends outside of Rooster Teeth, please) despite one night of drunk fuckery.

Still.

V.

It’s a Let’s Build day. It also happens to be Monday. These two events absolutely have a kind of meaning when paired together – Matt can still vividly recall the moment Kdin applies a Vampire Diaries’ fanfiction slash pairing name to the Hivemind.

“Would you rather,” says Lindsay, mashing left and right trigger on the new build with a concentration akin to the focus of a scientist on a new phenomenon, “do it with an Achievement Hunter or a Rooster Teeth employee? Like, direct employee. Uh, what’s an example… like Kerry.”

Next to her, Matt mutters into his mike, “Aren’t we all Rooster Teeth employees?” He traces out the redstone wiring with a practiced eye. There’s no question that he’s retreating into a happy place.

“Uh, does it have to go all the way or just _nnniguh_?” Jeremy throws out. Kdin’s little kid snickering reverberates through the headphones, and Matt involuntarily gives a snort.

“Aw,  dude, all the way. Get all sexed, buddy,” she jokes, adding a cheerful laugh. “Speaking of, can we add that to my pimping duties? Is that _already_ on my pimping duties?”

Matt blames it on Monday that he’s forgotten the reference of _pimping_ duties and that the topic has surfaced at all in a Let’s Build. “Guys,” he says, trying to redirect their attention to their task, “so I’m thinking redstone – “

“No,” Kdin spits out on reflex, “You don’t have any goddamn right to say anything about _more_ redstone unless it’s ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NECESSARY.”

Mildly, Matt deigns to respond, “Well, okay.”

And then Jeremy pops into the conversation: “Matt, that’s gotta be the fastest you’ve ever said okay.”

“Nah, there’s been faster.” Just like that, Matt fucks up the entire ‘let’s not slip innuendos to each other despite the one-night stand’ agreement they’ve got going. Of course, Kdin and Lindsay are blissfully ignorant of the horrifying mistake Matt’s committed, but the absentminded comment causes Jeremy to stop talking and peer over his desktop screen to eye the taller man.

There’s something like a challenge in those dark eyes. Matt swallows hard through a dry throat, looks away first, and decides to redirect the conversation again. “So Warm Bodies,” he says with a faux cheer.

“Talked about it,” the three respond in unison.

They play in silence for a couple minutes until Lindsay succeeds in circling back to the classic ‘would you rather’ questions. “So who would you fuck? Or be fucked by, for that matter. Let’s be honest, people.”

Everyone mutters an answer along ‘everyone is fucked by Geoff at one point’ and when Kdin flips the question back at her, Lindsay candidly answers with ‘Michael, obviously.’

No one catches the way Matt glances again at Jeremy and how he is startled into holding the stare when Jeremy is looking back with a small smirk on his face.

VI.

The circumstance of how a sober Matt ends up being kissed to an inch of his life by his equally sober partner goes a little like this:

“So, not the fastest, huh?”

“That _wasn’t_ a challenge, buddy.”

“Was to me. So, wanna?”

“Wanna _what_ ,” Matt had said in exasperation. He’d somehow been herded with his back to the bedroom door, the unstoppable force of Jeremy Dooley erasing any hesitation Matt had created after the presumably successful one-night stand (he still barely recalls anything but _yes please more good boy_ ). And then two muscular arms had caged him in, allowing that body frame to press against Matt, and a thigh had wormed its way to rub at the constricting jeans when a cautious hand slipped to the back of his neck tugging Matt’s head down –

Kissing Jeremy sets off a myriad of physical reactions.

“This is not,” he gasps, “the kind of foreplay you honestly think is gonna get me to give up, right?” Sober to the bone and feeling as though his skin is itching for more contact, he tentatively rests his hands at the broad expanse of Jeremy’s shoulders. Meanwhile, Jeremy’s demanding mouth is trailing over whatever clear skin it can find, clever fingers and hands running over where his mouth hadn’t.

Matt’s kind of glad the two of them aren’t the kind of ‘let’s kiss all over each other’s fucking faces’ people, because they both have prickly facial hair.

“I think it’s enough to get this party started,” retorts Jeremy with a gleeful grin. It gets him a disgusted groan from the pinned man practically falling on his front for Jeremy to reach his lips. “Anyway,” he continues, holding a little tighter at the back of Matt’s neck, “you love this.”

“One night of drunk and you think you know what I like?” asks Matt incredulously. “Maybe the entire Jerematt thing is wrong! Maybe _I_ like being on top of – “ He cuts off with a cough of surprise, jerking at the forceful nudge Jeremy’s thigh had given.

Jeremy studies Matt’s face in a silent, teasing response. _This is not a challenge_. Jeremy scoffs at the sentence. _Really, Matt?_ He blinks and presses even closer to Matt’s tall and thin frame, loving the subconscious stutter of hips in a search for more friction. Jeremy licks his lips and dares: “Then try it. Boy.”

Like a tree struck by lightning, Matt goes rigid and whimpers at the back of his throat.

“Yeah, thought so.” Moving his hands to the waistband of Matt’s jeans, Jeremy’s fingers dip and flutter at the rough line between denim and skin – he keeps a close eye on the man’s face as he muses aloud, “Wonder if you have the same reaction to dirty talking.”

Matt gets pinker by the second, and he repeats the adorable noise of _oh my god_ _that’s a kink_ from twenty seconds ago.

 _Be polite_ , scolds imaginary-Kat, beating away any sordid fantasies being farmed inside of his head. It can’t stop him from smiling like he’s struck gold. “So, Matt,” Jeremy drawls, “in interest of not creating an awkward workplace situation, how about we mutually consent to this _aloud_.”

Somewhere along the way, Matt’s brain might have shut off, because all he makes is a non-assertive sound.

Sighing pointedly, Jeremy reiterates, “How about you agree to let me fuck you,” he punctuates this with a hopefully awakening kiss, “and thereafter not have it ruin our daily relationship.”

Inside of Matt’s head, there is a champagne party. “Sure,” he finally gasps, hips repeating the jerky rhythm from several nights ago. Clearly, he’s remembered nothing. “God, yes, please – _please_ ,” he groans when the heel of a hand presses against the confines of his jeans. One of his hands scrabbles for the doorknob and frantically twists it open.

Because Jeremy has no desire of his arms unexpectedly failing him if he tries to bodily lift Matt, he instead ushers Matt to the bed, closing the bedroom door like a gentleman before jumping after him.

VII.

Here is the problem with Jeremy developing a relationship (that practically has no boundaries at this point) with Matt: there is no problem. They’ve already carpooled to work several times and to lunch even more – Jeremy picks the edible green off of Matt’s plate, Matt will usually drag a bread basket over to his lap. The only line Matt’s refused to cross is the entire Arya meets Booker and Scooter line.

Well, Jeremy’s encountered the white devil-cat once, and he wouldn’t want to inflict Arya onto his cats.

Either way, the recent nights of sleeping over at each other’s apartments had, at first, worried Jeremy. Reasonably, there was close to zero chance that Matt would be comfortable (or that Jeremy himself would be comfortable) sleeping over till the morning arrived because of mainly their cats.

On a less logistical scale, the problem Jeremy is dealing with right now is that there is no problem with transitioning from bros to fuckbuddies for _him_. He has no idea how Matt’s dealing with the entire thing, to be honest, but Jeremy knows he doesn’t want to give up the sight of Matt’s mouth falling open as his mile-long legs are spread wide and fingers curl perfectly inside him.

Not many things beat that sight.

“I have a crisis,” he tells Kat sadly over a bowl of cereal. Milk is noticeably absent, which is also a tragedy meant to be rectified.

She cuts to the point straight away, calling out his bullshit. “Is it with Matt?” Jeremy guiltily stares at his bowl of Cheerios; his spoon makes a pitiful scraping sound when it scratches the bottom of the plastic. Kat’s holding the milk, though, and that means he can’t avoid the question if he wants a complete breakfast sometime before work (thank god Matt’s taking his own car today).

“Matt features heavily into many of crises, yep.”

“And this particular crisis?” Daintily, a stream of milk is poured into Kat’s own bowl. Jeremy wishes he could be a little more pissed off to just grab the half-gallon for himself.

He grumps. “Nng.” Kat passes him the milk and he dumps a quarter of it into the shallow curve of his dish. “I mean, specifically, I’ve got a crisis about Matt being really passive.”

Kat blinks. “Well, that’s new. You’re not really into the passive peoples.” She tries to dredge up her last memory of Matt, which happens to be of the last time he, she, Jeremy, Kdin, and Val had grouped together to build Halloween. “And is he really like that? Last time I met him, he just seemed really cranky.” But strangely even-tempered concerning Jeremy’s shit.

“A cranky drunk, a good colleague,” he informs her. “Seriously kinky like damn.”

“You liar.”

Jeremy grins. “Aw, ya caught me.”

She stares at him, a little dumbfounded. “Wait, wait, _wait_ , seriously?”

VIII.

Two days later, when Kat is back in Boston being the Good Samaritan to all ailing pets, Jeremy is back inside the Rooster Teeth office, alone and across from Matt. A couple hours ago, Joel and Adam had vacated the room. Jeremy’s in a good numb buzz of editing like a pro when Matt suddenly clears his throat and scratches his beard with those long fingers.

“Kat’s been texting me weird sex hints all day,” says Matt plaintively. At Jeremy’s disbelief – despite the bill of his cap hanging low, there’s a clear narrowing of the dark eyes. “Is your relationship okay?”

There is some serious remedy needed to resolve this, Jeremy belatedly decides. “Look, Matt,” he spouts. “Everyone deals with new friends differently. Maybe she wants you to be, uh, happy. What’re the messages, anyway?” _Oh my god, please be PG-13_ , begs his conscious.

Matt clears his throat several times, furrows his brow and extends his phone out and then back in in a valiant effort to make sense of it. Finally, he reads out, “’He likes a little struggle. Make it less easy for him so it looks like a just reward in the end. Hold out as long as possible because dry orgasms kind of suck. Rimming is an experience – “

Joel kicks down the office door with a pinched brow and snarling frown. “For fuck’s sakes,” he rants, “leave a tie or a fucking sock on the fucking door, you fucking _fucks_!” He double-takes at the innocent and clean sight of a startled, unsexed Matt – with a classic deer-in-the-headlights expression – and a blinking Jeremy wearing a more bemused expression. “What the _fuck_ ,” says Joel feelingly.

In vain, Jeremy tries once more to salvage the conversation. “My ex is offering Matt sex advice,” he responds with a straight face. He ain’t a lying asshole.

The seemingly ageless (and much more considerably stressed) man stared hard at Jeremy, because _what_. “… No,” he decides with a sharp nod. “I’m not falling for bullshit today. Just, get back to work you lazy fucks.” Joel edges out of the office with one last piercing stare at Matt’s soul.

Matt kind of wants to lay down and die, but he’ll settle for hunching back into a ‘go-away’ pose. Hackles raised to ward off anymore of the conversation he’d brought on, Matt also polishes off his ‘go away’ pose with an additional ‘fuck off’ expression complete with tightened lips and slit eyes. Meanwhile, Jeremy’s whipped out his phone under the table and is texting Kat, making certain of her intentions.

He fires off, ‘you k with matt?’ and she responds with a fast: ‘if you thought I wasn’t gonna approve of matt, we’re having another talk on how to communicate’, and that’s that.

IX.

“Wider,” murmurs Jeremy, voice like warm silk. His stubble scratches against Matt’s collarbone, and teeth follow suit to make Matt hiss. They must look like a picture, because here’s a short man (seven inches shorter, hey, he makes life work) adjusting a much taller man into a much more accommodating position. It’s hell on Matt, who voluntarily refuses to exercise, but goddamn is Jeremy into this.

“Not all of us have a history of being flexible,” snipes Matt, teeth gritted with strain. His partner leans back and stares at Matt’s mutinous eyes with his own. If anything, Jeremy thinks fondly, they are matched in their ability to communicate obstinacy.

“Wider,” he repeats more firmly, his gentle nudging at the joints of Matt’s thighs belying the tone. “Or do I really hafta coax it outta you?”

This time, Matt struggles to prop himself up on his elbows, eyes a little bigger than before. “No,” he says. “You are not thinking – _no_.” Yet his legs still fall open a little wider, subconsciously inviting – judging by the state of his cock, Jeremy thinks Matt might be a little into this area of sex.

Still, as he weighs the tone in his head, Jeremy comes to the conclusion a little verbal coaxing is required. The mandate ‘consent before pleasure’ has been beaten into his head by so many women, he’s already putting his hands a safe distance away from Matt’s legs (even if Matt’s trying to get some contact restarting). “How d’you guess I’ll do it, huh?” he complains, folding his arms.

“Because – ‘cause – fuck if I know, okay?! Just – you got that look on your face!”

“Ten minutes,” wheedles Jeremy, staying primly at Matt’s hips. No matter how hard the taller man twists or turns, those damnably strong fingers remain in place. “Ten minutes for you to relax until I can get you to a reasonably relaxed state for me to fuck you while looking at your face, you romantic asshole.”

Matt bites his lip and blows out a gusty sigh, already letting his elbows drop. “You had a moment to dirty-talk me into this and then you ruined it,” he mutters. “I reserve the right to call out on this, though, I swear to god – “

An unbelievably gentle hand stretches up to his cheek. “Hey,” Jeremy reminds him. “Anytime this gets uncomfortable, don’t even hesitate booting me back into the friendzone.”

“Do _not_ turn this into emotional healing sex, I do _not_ – “

Quick as lightning, the hand pulls away and –

And here is all Matt really recalls of that night: a really blinding and mind-blowing climax that dropped him into a world of nonstop ‘god don’t stop don’t stop please please oh _shit_ ‘.

X.

“You’re a ratfuck, you know that?” Kdin spits at him, shoulders bristling like the angry kitten he is. And all Matt’s done to offend the snippy bastard is offer to wire up several things. He wishes Lindsay was here to mediate on this impending harangue; it’s only Jeremy the Goddamn Instigator here with them.

“Don’t be jealous that I can grow a beard, Kdin,” he absentmindedly responds, injecting some lighthearted smugness into it.

Kdin screeches more offending terms and proceeds to trip into his rant about how Let’s Builds were too damn long to edit and why Matt had to reel back on wiring things _because it made for shit footage_.

Matt just wants to get some sleep, eat some noodles, and even taunt Arya with shreds of newspaper and laser pointers at this point but – he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. There’s a lot of builds that need real progress made, and –

Jeremy had taken his own car to work today, snatching any possibility of an excuse to leave early away. He mourns for the loss of an early dinner of noodles.

Finally, Kdin sums up: “I can look a lot younger than you, you fuck. Women like hairless guys – “

“Children,” Matt corrects out of habit. Or defensively. “Children are into hairless guys.

“Your point?” interrupts Jeremy at last, his voice sounding entirely too amused for his professed exasperation at them.

“Hair is hair,” grouches Matt. “I don’t know what the fuck is Kdin’s problem with it.”

“I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT. IT’S THAT YOU KEEP GOING ON ABOUT IT.” The music of Kdin’s screech echoes for several minutes, and it reinforces the fanon that the Nevadan native was related to Michael Jones.

“Like wiring,” Matt says glibly.

Laughter fills the room with a kind of giddiness and contentment Matt knows few people rarely encounter, and it brings a slight smile to his mouth.

Then he catches Jeremy’s eyes, and he has to regain focus, because what he sees is –

Devotion, affection, amusement – Matt quickly discards the shitty train of thought heading towards I-Have-A-Crushville and hopes to high hell this is not his high school ‘I’m in love’ phase happening all over again. Briefly, he does wonder if Jeremy gets the same thing from him; did Jeremy even see past the friendly veneer over their relationship as the kind of adoration Matt rarely gave anyone?

XI.

The Hivemind joke is not a new thing, per se. These soulmate ideas have been applied to almost _everyone_ at Rooster Teeth and especially at Achievement Hunter. It’s not an out-of-the-blue concept.

So when Matt is editing the newest LB from Gavin and Geoff, and he hears Geoff mention ‘the way he looks at Jeremy’, he takes a step back.

Is he really that fucking obvious is the first thought that runs through his head. Opening an internet tab, he searches for the past couple of AHWUs and makes desperate clicks at the community, and he finds that –

Well, he’s really that fucking obvious. He hurriedly wipes the browser history and returns to work.

Jeremy sneaks up behind him whilst Matt slowly cuts the next video, paying special attention to the lapses and sudden conversations. As two hands clasp onto his shoulders, Matt jolts from being so hastily dislodged from his happy place. “Jesus Christ!”

A smirk pulls at Jeremy’s mouth. “Yeah, not quite. Are you done editing?” Fingers dig experimentally at the tension knotting Matt’s shoulders, and the little gratification from Matt’s pleased groan encourages Jeremy further.

“Fuck, I wish,” Matt sighs, “but they’ve recorded well over three hours of gameplay. I might be here for another two.”

"Just as an incentive then," drawls Jeremy, "remember that I drove here with you today, and it'd be nice to sleep at an earlier time for once." His fingers burrow into a particular knot, and when it fades from existence, Matt has been reduced to a whimpering puddle of man. Jeremy leans in close, as if to divulge a secret.

The other man can barely move his neck let alone his body, so all he can do is shiver all over as his partner whispers a dirty streak of promises to him.

A sudden clap on his shoulder. "Be fast, man," Jeremy says cheerfully, then leaves the room.

Matt raises a shaky hand to push up at his glasses and struggles to readjust his mental faculties.

("You'll need the sleep after tonight, buddy. It's going to be... Pretty exhausting.")

XII.

So Matt’s been growing out his hair and beard mostly because he _can_ without having to face the paranoia South Carolina holds toward long-haired bearded people. The fact that Austin’s completely okay with dealing with long-haired bearded people – and that many of Rooster Teeth have gone through inexplicably amazing hair evolutions – had inspired Matt to try out a different hairstyle than sad asshole.

He hadn’t exactly realized what kind of scenarios his long hair had painted for Jeremy until one Saturday night, Jeremy stealthily slips a hand at the back of Matt’s head and gives a little tug at the lengthening locks. The sensation makes Matt groan, and with bleary eyes, he tries to catch Jeremy’s distracted – and heated – gaze.

“Jerem,” he gasps once Jeremy has a firm grasp on Matt’s hair, fingers deliciously close to the scalp and the force of the tug still gentled to suit Matt (he’d argue he isn’t a wilting flower,  but the fact stands that he _is_ pain-prone with just a strong  constitution  because despite all the junk nutrition he eats, he’s never suffered the nightmare of kidney stones and food poisoning).

“Hm?”

Jeremy’s other hand scrapes down his chest, his stomach, and then goes to deftly pull a long whimper of pleasure from the taller man, thumb tracing under the head.

“What’s – with – oh, fuck me, _ah_ – “

Matt loses track of his question, but Jeremy doesn’t misplace his ideas on where to jump Matt next.

XIII.

The shower is really not a safe place to have sex, thinks Matt hazily, back pressed against a freezing tiled wall and his beard and hair being plastered to his skin on one side with hot water. He and Jeremy are squished in the tub, and it is by grace of being stick thin that allows Jeremy to step into the shower and pin him tight against the surface.

However dangerous Matt feels this venture is, though, Jeremy is not of the same mind. The determination at which he sets to thrusting and curling his fingers in Matt to set him panting for air and release is –

Matt’s admittedly not in any state to judge anything coherently, to be honest. His hips instinctively roll, and when Jeremy has to edge away to hitch up Matt’s leg, Matt desperately grabs for something to cling or lean on – he loops his arms around Jeremy’s neck and shoulders and tries not to become deadweight. In response, Jeremy huffs a laugh into Matt’s chest, digs his heels into the nonslip bathtub mat Jeremy insisted he invest in, and makes Matt legitimately rely on Jeremy from letting him slip down the wall and kill himself.

Picture two lines against a wall. One line is tall, thin, and straight up against the wall, a little away from the floor. The other is short, thick, and leaning against the thin line, pressing it to the wall.

Add a bit of human limbs, and by some miracle, Jeremy has maneuvered the previously hitched leg to wrap tight at his waist.

When Matt comes, he’s split between burying his head in the crook of Jeremy’s neck and shoulder or struggling to grab at the attached horizontal metal bar digging in the small of his back. But – Jeremy doesn’t stop moving. He only goes from a punishing pace to a more seductive, drawn-out rhythm that makes Matt’s entire body spasm in confusion of whether this is pleasure or pain. Then, as Matt’s mouth is agape with overstimulation, Jeremy pulls his head down by the long hair at his temple and kisses him fiercely under the pelting jets of water.

It’s too fucking much, he thinks wildly, writhing between the two sensations. He cries wordlessly into Jeremy’s mouth as he comes again, and after a minute of some aftershocks (the way Matt shudders again and again when another wave shakes him is _amazing_ to feel), Jeremy breaks the kiss and cocks his head back, considers the naked expression on Matt’s face with wry affection and shuts off the shower.

“Was that a never again moment?”  he asks quietly, lowering Matt’s leg. Without the pounding sound of water hitting the tub, Jeremy can hear the harsh panting die down as Matt forces himself into a semblance of control.

All of a sudden, Matt blurts out, “We’re co-workers.”

Jeremy peers up at his lover. “And I love having a convenient other building neighbor to drive me or have me driven to work,” he freely admits. “I’m open. To a lot of stuff, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“… Oh.”

He eyes the wavering expression in green eyes as Matt wrestles his indecisiveness into order. “Do you want this conversation now or later?”

“Now?”

The shorter man reaches up to curl a hand in Matt’s soaked hair, and he tugs him down to peck him on the lips. “I’ll be in the living room.”

XIV.

Matt has a pleasant singing voice when he tries; Jeremy attempts to include most of what Matt sings or hums or even half-mumbles in the Let’s Builds. Not a lot of people have caught on, because what is the norm for them is most of Achievement Hunter singing tunes off-key.

Dried off from the best shower sex he’s had in a long while, Jeremy sits on the sofa and patiently waits for Rimmy Tim to render. The moment he hears several measures of 90s music be sang, he automatically slumps against the back of the sofa to enjoy.

He falls asleep, which he didn’t expect, and he is woken up by a pensive Matt, which he also didn’t expect. The television and Xbox is shut off, and there is an eerie quiet to the room despite the lights yellowing everything up.

Finally: “Scoot over, asshole,” mutters Matt. When Jeremy obligingly stays put with a sleepy smirk, Matt only purses his lips with a considering look in his eyes before straddling Jeremy’s lap in a parody of several months before – the difference being that they are both stone-cold sober.

Jeremy’s eyebrow hikes up a good inch, and his hands reflexively settle at Matt’s waist to steady the tall fuck. “Is this the talk?”

“Something like that,” responds Matt, concentrating on pulling out several memories – Kat’s texted him once concerning advice about sex, he remembers (she’d also stopped after that one time, and at that point in time, he’d thought it was just a simple social faux pas). He places his hands at Jeremy’s rock-steady shoulders and grinds his hips down, tries to make it look effortless, and he keeps a frown on his face with effort. Jeremy’s breath audibly catches. “This is kind of a question.”

“Go on.”

“Are we friends with benefits?”

The air gets thick with tension, because Matt’s attempt at lightheartedness hadn’t worked – as usual. Jeremy’s fingers, lax before when Matt had made that first push, suddenly tightened and stalled him from moving. “I guess,” says Jeremy at last. He sounds resigned. “Is that what you think this is?”

Shoulders slumping, Matt sighs back, “I don’t fucking know, Jeremy. I just want to settle the line so when this breaks down, we can still be Hivemind. Or just good friends.”

They aren't very good with touchy feelings, or, they aren't very good at expressing their feelings through words, but Jeremy is talented in communicating with his actions.

And so when Jeremy deliberately raises a hand and slides it through Matt's drying hair, grasping firmly and nudging Matt closer, Jeremy says as much as he can in the kiss, his eyes half-shut at the strength of it.

At least Matt understands, because in ten seconds flat, Matt is moving his hands and divesting Jeremy of his shirt, undoing the belt of his jeans, and sliding the fly down.

"I wish I could say this in one of those cheesy monologues," murmurs Jeremy, humming as Matt curls and presses his teeth against the line of Jeremy's neck, "or lead up to it with a picnic basket and sunset, or a really long exhausting night of - "

"Don't ruin the moment," mutters Matt. "I swear to god if you say what I think you're gonna say, don't do it while I am sexing you."

(And really, because they're Matt and Jeremy, Jeremy and Matt, they take one look at each other and giggle at the almost teen angst of it all.)

(And then Jeremy takes control of the situation, still laughing gaily and bliss flooding his system raw.)

**Author's Note:**

> All ye who made it through, does anyone want a sequel posted containing reactions from the rest of the RTAH crew? This was supposed to include that, but then it would've lost the impact of the sugary ending.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
